


The Apprentice

by all_not_well



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Tags To Be Added As They Become Appropriate, Blackmail, Cross-Generation Relationship, Dubious Consent, F/M, Humiliation, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_not_well/pseuds/all_not_well
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily accepts an offer she cannot refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> I make no guarantees as to when or even if this will be continued, so please don't ask. The spirit is willing, of course, but the muse is a heinous bitch. This is something I've had in the back of my mind for a while now, though, and I really really really want to write it. So there's that. 
> 
> Un-beta'd.

He watched the flush slowly rise in her pale skin, pink roses blooming prettily in her cheeks. Her brown eyes were very wide and distinctly water-logged as she lifted her head to look at him, though she thrust her chin out, determined to face down the situation with all the Gryffindor pride and defiance at her disposal. He'd been right about her: she was Daddy's girl through and through.

"Why are you showing me these, Professor?" she gritted out through clenched teeth.

Draco lifted one of the photos from his desk to take a closer look, his expression schooled into idle curiosity, as though the details were not already seared into his brain. The images were stark in black and white, strangely unmoving, each scene an isolated moment of unbridled lust. The boy's face was partially obscured by the tangled length of his pale hair, though his youth was unmistakable: he couldn't have been more than sixteen, by a generous estimate. Harry Potter's hateful, loathed visage, however, was perfectly clear and recognizable, contorted though it was by the obvious pleasure he took in plowing the boy's arse.

"I would hate for the _Prophet_ to get hold of just one of these images," Draco murmured, replacing the photo with the others. "Think of what it would do to your father's reputation. Why, I imagine his job might even be at stake if these were published. And what a shame that would be."

Her eyes flashed; her wand flew up to point at the photos, her lush lips parting on a whispered _Incendio_. The images on Draco's desk flared in a brief conflagration before crumbling to ash. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smug little smirk.

Draco smiled. "How fortunate I am to be a Slytherin, and not a brash and thoughtless Gryffindor. I, at least, have enough sense to know that the negatives are safely stored in a secure - and more importantly, _fire-proofed_ \- vault at Gringotts."

The smirk bled away; dismay crept across her features, followed by blind rage as she lifted her wand once more and very nearly aimed it at him. Happily she had the presence of mind to remember at the last moment that she was a student, and he a professor, and that aiming her wand in his direction was sure to be a Very Bad Thing Indeed in the eyes of the Headmistress, no matter what the provocation. She dropped the wand to her side, breathing hard through her nose as she struggled to rein in her temper.

"Oh, well done," Draco said, his smile widening as he leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs in a deliberately casual pose. "I would so hate to see you expelled before you had the chance to sit your NEWTs, after all." He steepled his fingers on his stomach, his wand obviously not in evidence. He had nothing to fear from the chit.

"What do you want from me?" she snapped.

Her stance was so proud, so rebellious - so very like her father's in his schooldays, chin up and shoulders back, white-knuckled fingers gripping her wand as though longing to hex the smile from Draco's lips. Just the thought of what it might take to snap that pride of hers, to crumble her spirit into dust, was enough to send a frisson of pleasure down his spine. It took all his control not to reach down and adjust his prick in his trousers. She was going to be absolutely delicious.

"I don't ask for much, my dear little flower," Draco murmured. He straightened and withdrew a length of parchment from his desk drawer, sliding it across his desk towards her. "I have need of a new apprentice, and your potions scores are quite promising. As I have a every confidence that you will maintain the same standards on your NEWT exam next week, I would like to take the opportunity to offer you the honor of an apprenticeship contract with me."

She didn't even bother to glance down at the parchment. "I'll fail," she said at once. "I'll get a deliberate Troll on the exam. The guild won't let you take on an apprentice who can't manage the NEWT, no matter what my classwork looks like."

"Then I believe I've a Floo call to make to the editor of the _Prophet_ ," Draco said simply, his smile never dimming. "That will be all, Miss Potter. You may return to your dormitory."

He rolled up the contract and set it aside, then Scourgified his desktop to remove the ashy residue of the original photos. He lightly traced his finger over the scorch mark her spell had left behind; the surface would need to be refinished. Perhaps he should have a bill for the damages sent to her father...or should he speak to her mother instead? The divorce settlement had reportedly been quite generous.

"Wait," the girl whispered.

"Are you still here?" Draco didn't bother to look up as he spoke. He took an envelope out of the drawer and slid a second set of the photos into his hand. "I'm very busy at the moment, as you can see. My time is quite valuable."

He stood and turned deliberately towards the Floo.

"Wait," she said urgently. "Please." Her voice cracked on that one word. He wondered how much it had hurt her to say it.

The silence stretched between them for a long moment, broken only by her harsh, rapid breathing and the crackling of the fire.

"Was there something you needed, Miss Potter?"

"I--" She broke off and closed her mouth with an audible snap of her teeth.

"You have one minute, Miss Potter," Draco said, turning to face her once more. "What will it be? The apprenticeship, or your father's ruined reputation? Think carefully, little flower... I imagine it would not look good for the Ministry if the Head Auror's fondness for tender young boys was brought to light. There could be an inquest. Maybe even a stint in Azkaban, if the boy proves to have been underage at the time these photos were taken." He took a second look at the photos, tilting his head as he considered them one by one. "How old is he here, do you think?"

Fury and despair, sorrow and pain flickered in her expressive face. Tears tracked down her cheeks, smearing her eyeliner, giving her a haunted look. The effect only added to her appeal in Draco's eyes. He buffed his fingernails against the front of his robe and pointedly checked the state of his manicure, silently counting down the last seconds.

"Very well--"

"Fine!" she blurted out. Her eyes closed briefly as she choked on a sob. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Congratulations, Miss Potter." Draco tossed the photographs onto his desk with a careless flick of his wrist. "A very wise decision. I believe we will do well together." He drew a blood quill from the breast pocket of his robes and held it out towards her, unrolling the bottom section of the contract on his desk so that the signature line was visible. "Sign here, if you will."

She stubbornly ignored the quill in his hand. "I'd like to read it first."

"You might have considered that before you so unwisely allowed your time to lapse."

She opened her mouth, clearly gearing up for another argument. He tapped the photograph nearest him with one forefinger, and something in his expression apparently convinced her that she had run out of options. She snatched the quill from his fingers and signed her name with sharp, stabbing motions, wincing as the signature was briefly cut into the back of her hand. The quill's magic immediately healed the wound, but she rubbed at it anyway as though to ease the sting.

"Thank you, my dear." Draco tapped the scroll with his wand, and a duplicate appeared beside it. "Your copy," he said, pushing the duplicate towards her. "The original will be secured at Gringotts; in seven years, when the contract ends, both it and the photographs will be destroyed."

Her eyes widened, and her face blanched so that the dusting of freckles on her nose stood out in sharp relief. "S-seven years? You can't be serious! The ministry standard is just two!"

"Ah," said Draco, "but I hold my apprentices to the international standard. Seven years. Nine, if you fail your first examination with the international guild. And believe me, my dear: a failure _will_ result in the publication of those delightful photos, as well as any others of a similar nature that I might happen to collect over the years. So you will want to do your very best to succeed, I am sure."

He tapped her copy of the contract with one forefinger, even as he slid the original into his pocket. "Familiarize yourself with the contents. I will not lightly suffer a breach of the rules outlined therein."

She took the contract with shaking fingers.

Draco made a shooing motion. "Off you go, my dear. Good luck on your exams; I'm sure you will do well. I will expect you at Malfoy Manor at eight o'clock on the first of July to officially begin your apprenticeship."

Her sobs lingered in Draco's ears long after she fled. He swiftly locked the door behind her with a flick of his wand, then sat back in his desk chair for a long and leisurely wank. He was definitely going to enjoy himself with her.


End file.
